


Into the Dark Void

by Stirl999



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Or not, Quickly, Sith Empire, Sith Padmé Amidala, Yet another Sith Padmé story, reverse Vadmé?, this one may get pretty dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-12-25 13:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18261854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stirl999/pseuds/Stirl999
Summary: The Grand Plan of the Sith succeeded early, hundreds of years before the era of Palpatine.  A dark Emperor rules with an iron fist over the Galaxy, and legions of Sith underlings enforce his will.As members of the dark order, weak and powerful, roam the galaxy looking to extinguish the Jedi, Padmé Amidala, a struggling initiate, seeks to claim her rightful place with the Sith.  Her plan?  To capture and turn the last hope of the dying order, the young Jedi they call the Chosen One...





	1. Chapter 1

The young Jedi Padawan sprinted down the narrow banister, terrified to fear, because fear led to the Dark Side. His friends he left behind, unsure whether they were dead or alive. Many were dead, he acknowledged reluctantly, the sounds of their screams and agony still echoing through his mind. He tried not to think about the boiling lava below, or let his nose take in the smell of the putrid, sulfurous fumes, or feel them waffling upwards, trying to claw and boil against his skin even as he ran hundreds of feet above it. It seemed ridiculous, in hindsight, that the Jedi would set up a training camp on this rotten, no good moon, but where else were they safe from the Empire?  _Well, no longer Mustafar,_  Tru Veld thought.

Seeing the platform on the other end of the beam, he quickened his pace, his only hope lying on the rare chance there lay a ship in the hangar ahead. And what if there was? If he could get through the blockade, what would the Jedi think if he returned, a sole survivor? Should he swing back and see if there were any others who survived the Sith onslaught? That would ensure his demise, and while he fervently hoped to survive this ordeal, it was not his life he was necessarily worried about, rather than what he knew. What only he and his Master knew. His late master, eviscerated by the Sith in front of his own eyes minutes before.

A soft and almost angelic voice floated through the volcanic gases into his consciousness. "Going somewhere, Jedi?"

He turned and saw a petite human saunter along the railing ahead, almost as if she were out for a relaxing night's walk. She was female and looked to be a few years older than himself, her long brown hair tied neatly into a bun, her red lightsaber, though lit, dangling casually by her hip. She could be beautiful, Tru thought, her porcelain face flawless despite the long scars that ran across her forehead and right cheek. Contrary to her gait, her yellow eyes gleamed viciously as she stepped up towards the end of the banister, blocking his way forward. Gathering his feet so that he wouldn't slip and fall to his death, Tru Veld lit his weapon and brandished it before him.

"Come at me Sith," he cried with more courage than he actually had. "If I die, it will be a far nobler death than anything you'll experience in life."

The Sith woman laughed at him in contempt. "Such chivalry from a Padawan. Yet, your shielding is weak. I feel your fear, the pulsing of your cowardice. Give me what I want, and I may yet let you live."

"Never," Tru screamed, charging forward.

Sighing, Padmé deactivated her blade at the sight of the charging Jedi, and extending one hand, shot towards him a furious stream of lightning at the boy. Though he managed to block the initial onslaught with his saber, the force of the attack threw his feet off balance, and as he stumbled and struggled to regain it on the narrow beam, his hold on the lightning wavered, and soon his entire body was engulfed in its tortuous painful embrace. Taking full control now, Padmé levitated the boy into the air, nothing but Sith lightning and her own willpower keeping him from falling into the lava below.

"Where is the Jedi base," she screamed now, no longer toying with the Padawan. "Where do you hide the Chosen One?"

"I'll never tell you!"

"Then we'll never leave," Padmé hissed, bombarding the vulnerable Padawan's minds with dark thoughts, projecting all of her own fear, her own pain, thrusting them into his mind. "I don't need to eat. I don't need to sleep. I will stand here for all eternity for the sole reason of making you suffer."

"Nooo! Please!"

She said nothing in response, only intensifying her attacks, putting her entire soul and essence into it. Finally, the boy gave in.

"Tatooine," he croaked, lips moving but this voice barely audible. "They're on Tatooine..."

"You are wise to surrender," Padmé said, a devilish smile gracing her face. At once the lighting ceased, and the Sith floated the Jedi over, so he stood suspended before her. "A clever ruse, Tatooine," she said, almost talking to herself.

"What are you going to do to me now," Tru asked weakly.

"I will kill you. But first," she said wickedly, delighting in the abject fear and hopelessness in the Jedi's eyes, "I don't think you've suffered enough yet."

Lighting her saber, she sliced at the Jedi, cutting through his abdomen with a wound guaranteed to be painful, yet not fatal. As he screamed in agony, she loosened her grip on him through the Force, letting the body drop lamely down to be engulfed by the fire. Satisfied, the young Sith paced gracefully back towards the main camp, where the beautiful sight of dozens of dead Jedi bodies littering the facility greeted her.

"Initiate Amidala," a deep, stern voice called at her, and she turned abruptly and knelt before the Sith Lord.

"Darth Hurdis," she said meekly at the man once known as Inquisitor Mace Windu, before he was elevated to the Council and given the title Dark Lord of the Sith. "What is your will?"

"You had strict orders, Amidala," he said coldly, angrily. " _My_  orders. Stay with the group. Do not stray. Do not venture off on your own. Yet what did you do?"

"But milord," Padmé said, gathering her composure and trying to remain calm, "I found..."

"Do not interrupt me, scum," Hurdis yelled, and without warning, struck her harshly in her face with his closed fist. Once she was on the ground, he unleashed Sith lightning onto the young woman, just as mercilessly as she had done to the Jedi moments before. Crouching on the ground in a fetal position, Padmé gritted her teeth, knowing there was nothing she could do but wait for the torture to end. Nothing she could do now, of course, but picture again and again the day in which she could cut open Hurdis's throat. Not even with her lightsaber, but the old fashioned way, with a vibro-blade. She would cut slowly, savor every second as his flesh teared...

"Lord Hurdis," another woman's voice interrupted, and thankfully, the Sith Lord's attacks ceased as he turned to Depa Billaba. His favorite, everyone knew. His right hand woman. Some said, though never to his face, his lover, though that was hardly an appropriate word for the sexual activities of Sith. And soon to be member of the Council, if Hurdis had his way. If this mission could prove successful.

"Inquisitor Billaba," he said. "Any sign of the Padawan Veld?"

"None," Depa replied, and Padmé bit her tongue. In her rage at her superior, she decided to hold back her knowledge for the moment. Hurdis and Billaba would likely take credit for her discovery anyway. Not that she expected any apology from a Sith, but she knew it mattered little whether she was right or not, whether she accomplished her mission or not, such were the politics of the Sith, and her own place within the Order as a lowly initiate.

Depa continued. "Ry-Gaul refused to talk, but we managed to get ahold of his ship, mostly intact. We found traces of matter found only on the Dantooine system."

Hurdis nodded in satisfaction. "Very good, Inquisitor. We will report to the Council on the return journey. I trust the Emperor will be most pleased by our discovery."

"Thank you, Lord Hurdis," Depa said, and Padmé saw the older woman give her a glancing look, one of contempt, the Inquisitor gloating openly. "Soon we will wipe out the last of the Jedi, and the rule of the Sith will be secure."

"As for the girl," Hurdis, said, kicking at Padmé, still lying in pain on the ground, "take her to the interrogation chambers."

Even Depa seemed surprised by his pronouncement. "Lord Hurdis? Did she betray us?"

"No," he replied with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. "But yet again, Initiate Amidala seems to have little regard for my orders. She will learn. She  _must_  learn, and given that have no captives to bring back to Coruscant, we must find some  _thing_  to keep the skills of our interrogators well honed."

The Sith Lord departed without another word, and several stormtroopers rushed in at once, slapping Force binders onto her wrists and pulling her roughly towards Hurdis's flagship. Even as her mind braced for the tortures to come, Padmé smiled, a plan forming in her mind. One that will sow the seeds of her own triumph, and the demise of Hurdis and all who kissed shamelessly at his feet. Her revenge was so close, she could taste it on her lips, and that was all she had to get her through the hours ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

It took her a few hours to recover herself and regain her composure. She needed days, really, but Siths were not privy to such luxury. Some bacta patches and makeup to make herself presentable, and some light narcotics for the pain as a rare privilege she will allow herself for once. Sith were supposed to revel in their pain, use it to fuel their hatred, a pathway to new revelations in the Dark Side, but Padmé needed to be alert for Darth Sidious, and a small amount of medication was just enough to ease the aftermath of the torture just enough without dulling the rest of her senses.

Leaving her apartment at 500 Empirica, grand compared to most abodes even on Coruscant but still modest for a Sith's dwellings. Even though palaces were reserved primarily for Inquisitors, some of the favored Initiates were occasionally privy to one. Ahead, she spied her personal cruiser docked peacefully along the secure platform, but Padmé felt a tap on her shoulder before reaching her ship.

"Siri," she exclaimed at the woman, her shoulder length blonde hair billowing in the wind under her dark hood.

"I'd ask how went things on Mustafar, but I heard," the older woman said. Sidious aside, the young Inquisitor before her was one of the few Padmé counted as a mentor. Almost a friend, much more so than Sidious, at least.

Padmé shrugged her shoulders. "I should be used to this shit by now. In a way, I am. The pain is what it is, but I just hate the way they all look at me, even the other Initiates, not to mention fucking Billaba. Like I'm weak, a failure...a pathetic excuse for the Order."

Siri looked like she wanted to comfort her, but such actions were obviously highly discouraged within the order. Though she let her eyes offer some comfort, her words danced around it outright. "I haven't heard of one Initiate who had it easy under Lord Hurdis. He is harsh, but for a reason. Just remember, all the pain and anger you feel now is for your own good. It'll drive you deeper into the darkness, and make you a better Sith." She paused. "Though what he puts you through constantly...I'll admit it's bad, even for him."

"I don't know why he singles me out," Padmé said, feeling her anger simmering, seething inside her, ready to boil over. "It's that witch Billaba that's turned him against me. I'm younger. She fears me. She thinks I'll steal Hurdis's cock from her, break her spell over the man." She shivered in disgust. "As if that's how I want to ascend the Order, as Hurdis's kept woman."

"I don't know," Siri said. "I think it's Hurdis that fears you."

"Me? Why in seven Sith hells should he fear me?"

"I couldn't tell you. But you know he sees the Dark Side differently than most other Sith. The shatterpoints. Maybe he sees one around you. Something that scares him, that threatens him."

Padmé kept silent. If only that were true. That meant she had more power than she realized, that the plan she was currently brewing inside her head stood a chance of success.

Hearing no response, Siri continued. "I mentioned you to Lord Tyranus again. Your skills...I do not presume to question the Emperor's wisdom...but I don't really see you as an enforcer. Intelligence on the other hand, you will excel at, but...I think Tyranus believes himself weak after the setback at Scarif, and he dares not make waves at the moment."

"Thanks regardless," Padmé said, though despite her gratitude towards Siri's concern, her mind was elsewhere. "I appreciate you sticking your neck out for me again."

"I risk nothing," Siri shrugged. "Tyranus trusts me implicitly, I am secure under his patronage."

Padmé nodded, but gestured towards the ship. "I must not keep Lord Sidious waiting."

"I understand," Siri started, but something about the younger Sith's demeanor struck her. "You have something up your sleeve, don't you?"

Caught, Padmé froze, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, the older Sith bailed her out once more.

"Don't tell me. The less who know, the better. But tread carefully, Padmé. You're on thin enough ice already."

Activating her cruiser, Padmé thought about the words Siri Tachi didn't say.  _Fail, and the ice breaks for good._

* * *

Most saw a kindly grandfather in the Grand Vizier of the Empire, an image Sidious cultivated himself to bolster his own popularity and some days, Padmé almost felt the same way about the Sith Lord who discovered her on their shared homeworld of Naboo so many years ago. But in reality, few knew better than Padmé, save the Emperor perhaps, just how dangerous and vicious the old man was.

"Lord Sidious," she bowed, glancing around the ornate decorations in the old gentleman's palace. If there was one thing she appreciated about him the most, it was that, out of all the Sith Lords, he was the only one who had a semblance of taste, and tracing her eyes around the paintings and statues in his parlor, Padmé could almost imagine for a moment that she was back home on Naboo. A home she had not visited for years. A family almost completely lost to memory.

"Padmé, my dear," the Sith formerly known as Sheev Palpatine gestured in a genteel manner from his desk. He beckoned her forward. "Rise, my dear, and come talk to a lonely old man."

"Milord," she said, taking the seat across from him. Despite their relative familiarity, she did not dare address him by his first name as he did with her. "Any word on the expedition to Dantooine?"

The old man sighed sadly. "No traces of the Jedi. Ry-Gaul and his student must have left their original transportation behind and used Dantooine as a juncture point on their way to Mustafar. But," the Sith Lord's cunning eyes grinned evilly at Padmé, piercing her very soul, "you knew this already, didn't you?"

Padmé parsed her lips. To speak further could be tantamount to treason. And she did not trust Sidious, not in the slightest. The only reason he would help her would be if she could somehow further  _his_  interests. "I wish you were the one leading these missions, Lord Sidious," she began carefully.

"Ah, but the Emperor needs me to handle all this... _political_  matter," Sidious replied, genuine disappointment lining his voice. "And I'm afraid I must agree with him...it is my matter of expertise, and as much as I savor the shedding of Jedi blood, my talents serve the Empire and the Sith better when I'm on Coruscant."

"I understand, Lord Sidious," Padmé said, lowering her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she decided to continue further, possibly down the path of digging her own grave. "Lord Hurdis is a powerful Sith, but his methods sometimes..."

"I hear he was not pleased with your conduct on Mustafar," Sidious said, his tone betraying nothing.

"He is a brute," Padmé exploded, though her anger was carefully calculated on her end for effect. "He acts without thinking. He lets the Billaba woman lead him around blindly."

"Careful now," Sidious interrupted, all traces of gentility vanished from his voice. "You must realize you're treading on dangerous ground right now,  _Initiate_  Amidala."

"Hurdis was wrong about Dantooine," she said curtly. "I knew this, because I know where the Jedi actually keep the Chosen One."

"You did not tell this to Lord Hurdis," Sidious asked, leaning forward, his eyes cold, and Padmé knew that her life hung in the balance, based on her next words, and how Sidious would react to them.

"I tried," she maintained, and that much was true. "He wouldn't listen. He wouldn't allow me another word. I was afraid he would kill me right then and there if I dared to speak again. My life is not important, but if I died, then my knowledge dies with me. So I kept quiet. For the sake of the Sith."

To her relief, the Grand Vizier leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms. He said nothing, a cue for her to divulge the only leverage she had on her own life.

"Tatooine. Only I knew this. Now, only  _we_  know this."

"Appropriate," he spat out. "Devious for the Jedi, but appropriate." He narrowed his eyes. "You chose to reveal this to me and only me for a reason."

"I want Hurdis," Padmé hissed angrily. "I want to rip his throat out with my bare hands. I want his whore to watch, and then I want to take her head off with my saber and hang it as a trophy."

"Lord Hurdis is the Emperor's favorite enforcer," Sidious said, pretending to waver in his thoughts, but Padmé knew exactly what he was doing, calculating, meditating, reaching out into the Dark Side to discern whether a course of action against Lord Hurdis would prove both successful and beneficial to himself. Though her words were daring by her standards, there was no surprise in Sidious's eyes, treachery being the way of the Sith, after all.

"And you are the Emperor's favorite politician. You are Hurdis's equal. Moreso, even. Anyone can be a brute like Hurdis. You know that he is currently facing the Emperor's wrath over his failure. He is weak, and he may never be weaker! Get rid of him, and you can convince the Emperor to place someone like Tyranus in his place, an ally!"

"You think far too cleverly for an initiate," Sidious said, still deep in contemplation. "You're young, and you believe this to be an advantage, but careful, girl! I have seen many a talented young Sith doom themselves by revealing their ambitions prematurely, before their moment is ripe."

She was still alive. And he did not deny her words. This was encouraging. She may yet survive the day. "Let me go," she said boldly. "Tell Hurdis I am unavailable, that I am carrying out a secret mission on your behalf. He will not push you on it, he cares little for me. When I slaughter the Jedi and return with the Chosen One, Hurdis and his acolytes are ours for the picking."

"The Chosen One," Sidious scoffed. "Bring such a prize back before the Emperor, and you'll be promoted to Inquisitor for sure. In fact, he may even skip that altogether and promote you to the Council." His gaze gentle again, the old man chuckled as he spoke now. "I trust you've given ample though to the name you will take as a Dark Lady of the Sith?"

"I presume nothing," Padmé said humbly, bowing her head in reverence again. "I aim to serve the Empire only."

"Are your feelings clear on this, Initiate Amidala?"

"They are, my lord."

"You would be wise to not underestimate young Skywalker," Sidious said, deep in thought. "He is no longer the boy you knew when you were Queen. The Jedi have had far too many years to poison his mind in their narrow doctrines, the foolish ways of their light. He is almost a man now, Padmé. He is powerful. Far more powerful than you, were he to embrace his full potential."

"I understand, Lord Sidious," Padmé said emotionlessly. Her low midichlorian count would always remain a sore point amongst others within the Sith Order, an open secret. Her potential was barely enough to qualify for the Order, and she likely would have been skipped altogether had Sidious not felt some special potential in her soul and decided to give her a chance. Her early years were filled with ridicule from her training mates, years of being looked down upon by her masters, much less by senior Sith Lords like Hurdis. But she still lived, when many of her peers did not.

Padmé Amidala was a survivor. She thought she had survived upon her first success years ago, that mission which brought her to Tatooine. Her first encounter with Jedi, and her first meeting with the Skywalker boy. It was that mission which saved her life, elevating her to a place as an Initiate in the order. She thought about those she had once known, those who failed to achieve Initiate status. The price for such failure was death, and she gleefully laughed at the execution of many of who once mocked her. Others, she barely admitted to herself at the time, she mourned. For though she hated some of her training mates, she had found solace with others. Were friends with them, even, were Sith ever allowed to have friends.

"There are other ways than pure force, my lord," she continued, though remaining vague.

"Yes," Sidious said thoughtfully, "I do recall how you said the boy became quite infatuated with you then. But wouldn't Maul's death have changed all that?" The Sith Vizier sighed. "It is clear that you have taken this as your trial. I question your wisdom in doing so, but I will not stop you."

"Thank you, Lord Sidious." Padmé rose, and bowed again before the dark master. "I will not fail you. I will not fail  _us_."

"I truly hope not, my dear Padmé," Sidious cooed, sounding congenial again, before his voice turned harsh. "But understand, dear girl, with the course you have chosen, that not even  _I_  can save you were you to fail."


	3. Chapter 3

"Anakin! Anakin! Wake up!"

"Ugh," the Chosen One of the Jedi grimaced as he opened his eyes, feeling the searing heat of the twin suns burning searing his skin even before he fully regained consciousness. His vision still blurry, he looked around his small hovel to find the offending intruder. "Qui-Gon? Can't you let me sleep in for once?"

"What's so good about sleep," the older Jedi Master asked cheerfully. "Up, young Anakin. The day awaits!"

"Well, I'm not on Tatooine, for one thing," Anakin grumbled, trying to recapture what little he remembered from his dreams. Something green, beautiful lakes, lush forests, endless waterfalls, and...

"Mind the Living Force, Anakin," Qui-Gon chided lightly. "You can't waste your days away in absent fantasies."

"Not every day," Anakin said, trying to put on his most supplicating demeanor, "but just one of these days? For once?"

"Well, not today," Qui-Gon said. He paused, as if he were trying to hide some excitement of his own. "Obi-Wan's back."

"Obi-Wan," Anakin exclaimed, suddenly fully awake and springing out of bed. "He's alive!"

"I'd assume so," Qui-Gon chuckled in amusement. "Unless somehow he found discovered how to come back as a ghost in the Force or something."

Anakin laughed. "That's preposterous, Master Qui-Gon, even for you."

Emerging from the hut, they found a gaggle of Jedi young and old already congregating around the young knight. Chatting them up, he recognized the two immediately, and politely tapped one young Padawan on the shoulder, signaling for her to move away so he could approach his former Master.

"Qui-Gon. Anakin. A sight for sore eyes, the two of you."

"Obi-Wan," Anakin said, his eyes fixated. "Your hair, what happened to it?!"

"Gone for months, presumed dead, then only to return in triumph, and all you have to say to the man is to make fun of his appearance?" Narrowing his eyes, Qui-Gon scrutinized his old Padawan. "Though to be fair, Obi-Wan, I've never seen you with long hair before. Not sure what I think about it. Or the beard."

Sighing in mock exasperation, Obi-Wan embraced both Jedi. "As if I had any time for proper grooming whilst I was busy tracking down the Empire's greatest superweapon, destroying it, then passing through more than a dozen systems to cover my tracks back here."

"Always the modest one, Kenobi," Anakin joked. "But I'm glad you're back. I'm afraid I'm wearing Qui-Gon out a bit too much during our sparring sessions these days."

"We'll see about that," Qui-Gon remarked, shooting a dirty look at the young Padawan. Frowning, he huddled over towards the young knight, turning his back towards Anakin, though the boy had every intention of listening in despite the strong hints for him to leave. "No word from the Mustafar cell?"

"None," Obi-Wan replied, concern infecting his eyes as well. "You haven't heard from them either? What about Master Ry-Gaul and his Padawan?"

"No word since they left for the system." Qui-Gon trailed off.

"You don't think," Anakin interrupted. "Could the Sith have gotten to them?"

"Not impossible," Qui-Gon said, his voice lowered to a whisper now, mindful of the younglings still within earshot. "If the worst did happen, then Ry-Gual and Veld remained true. Else the Empire would be upon us by now."

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "So many sacrifices...lives lost." Burying his head in his hands, he continued. "Many gave everything at Scarif. Sometimes, Master, I wonder," he looked at Qui-Gon uncertainly, as if he were a Padawan again, "is it worth it? Every success we have seems...matched immediately by yet more setbacks."

"The Empire won't be overthrown overnight," Qui-Gon said calmy, putting his arm around the younger Jedi. "We must have patience, Obi-Wan. And keep the faith. The Dark Side will not reign ascendant forever...the Force will not will it so."

"The Force, the Force," Anakin muttered to both their surprise.

"Anakin," Qui-Gon cautioned, but the teenager interrupted him before he had a chance to continue.

"With all due respect, Master, kriff the Force. Why don't we  _do_  something about it, instead of lying around on Tatooine,  _hoping_  the Empire doesn't find us..."

"Language, Padawan!"

"...I mean, you all seem to think I'm the Chosen One. So let me loose! Send me to Coruscant. Let me fight the Emperor. If it's the will of the Force, then I'll cut his throat and we'll be done with this karking bullshit."

"Anakin," Qui-Gon chided again, exchanging a knowing look with Obi-Wan, "one day we will act. But now is not the time. You are one Jedi, Ani. Do you really think you can overthrow the entire Sith Empire by yourself? Singlehandedly?"

Anakin shrugged, his frustration not eased by Qui-Gon's words. "Then what's the point of the Chosen One bullsith then? I don't get it, either the prophecy's right, or it's not. And if it's wrong, then why do I even kriffing exist? If there's nothing I can do about the Sith, then name one Force dammned reason why I shouldn't just quit all this fucking around on this Force-forsaken planet and go back to my mother, wherever the sith you all hid her away?"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, stepping in, "Qui-Gon is right. Believe it, I once thought as you did. I know it's not easy, sitting around, training, when there's so much suffering out there, when sentients are dying across the systems, enslaved by the Sith..."

"But you're out there now," Anakin said, the potent mixture of impatience, agony, and teenage angst undeniably in control of his eyes and his voice now. "You're making a difference. You're leading missions, saving lives, giving the Alliance hope with your triumph on Scarif!"

"I am now," Obi-Wan admitted. "But it took me a long time to be truly prepared. Mentally. Physically. I was not ready for this at your age. Or even when we first met, when we found you, and Maul and..."

The young Jedi trailed off, but Anakin quickly filled in the void in conversation. "The Queen. Amidala."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, his eyes distant, "the Sith imposter," he made sure to add.

"That is why we can trust no one," Qui-Gon admonished, intruding back into the conversation, "however harmless they seem. Obi-Wan and I made the mistake back then. It cost us Maul's life, and it could have been so much more."

"Maul was my friend," Anakin muttered to himself. "Whatever he was, he was kind to my mother...and me."

"Let his life not go to waste," Obi-Wan said, putting his arm around the young Padawan. "Let his memory be an eternal reminder to us the value of the vigilance. In the end...I think it's what he would have wanted."

"I guess," Anakin mumbled, aware that both Jedi masters were treading carefully...for his sake. He shook his head and stormed back into his hovel. Burying himself back in his small cot, he wondered if he could go back to sleep, make a return to his dreams. A better world. But then, any place was better than Tatooine. Even Hoth, as stark and cold his years there had been. Sensing that his masters were allowing him his space, he buried himself under his thin blanket, and willed himself to the refuge of slumber. Away from Tatooine. To his mother's arms. And if he dared...if his shielding was careful enough...to the brown eyes and smooth, pale skin of another he feared to even name in his own mind's eye...

* * *

Night fell on Tatooine, but unlike many other desert worlds, the dark hours brought little relief from the heat in the barren flats below the Jundland Wastes. The fire lit in the middle of the camp was superfluous, Anakin thought, a relic the older Masters clung to unbefitting of their actual climes, but who was he to judge on the ways of the Jedi Order? Chosen One they may claim him to be, but only in their imaginations. In reality, decisions were made wholly ignorant of his input, his own opinions as relevant as a lame Jawa lost and abandoned in the Dune Sea.

"Falling asleep on us, Chosen One?" A sharp, low-pitched female voice called from across the fire. Anakin winced, hating those cursed words coming from anyone but the few he trusted to truly understand him. To know his soul, in a way that no one could have since that fateful sojourn to Naboo eight years before.

"Meditating, Asajj," Anakin said nonchalantly. The young woman made her way across the fire with a bemused grin and smiled curiously at him as she took a seat on a large boulder next to his.

"That's a surprise, Skywalker, seeing as you're the one who seems to get scolded the most by Master Qui-Gon for actually falling asleep during meditation sessions."

"Same diff," Anakin said, a bit annoyed. "Anything to help me imagine that I'm anywhere but this Force forsaken planet. Hoth even, I actually didn't mind that base."

Asajj rolled her eyes in sympathy. "Yeah, can't say I'm a fan of your homeworld either. And I don't know why we left Hoth. The Empire never had any hint to our location."

"I think it's because Qui-Gon  _and_  Obi-Wan hated the cold there. I swear, I think Obi-Wan actually  _likes_  this dusty rock."

"I blame you, actually," Asajj said playfully, winking.

"Me," Anakin replied, incredulously though clearly exaggerating. "Why me?"

"Well, you're the damn Chosen One. Get it done already, and we Jedi will be free to roam anywhere we want on this karking universe. I've always wanted to see Alderaan, for one."

"Yeah, Alderaan would be nice," Anakin started. He saw Obi-Wan watching the two of them from nearby with a trace of amusement, and frowned. Surely his friend wasn't going to give him kriff about breeding with Asajj too? Looking at the girl awkwardly, Anakin almost wished for the Code of old, which banned all sorts of attachments between Jedi. Attachment was still heavily frowned upon these days, but in their desperate hour, relations between Force sensitives were openly encouraged purely for the sole reason of birthing new members of the Order. Padawans could get it out of their systems, so to speak, have a bit of enjoyment for the sake of the greater good, before resuming their supposedly emotionally neutral selves. The children, of course, were removed to a base in a different system, any semblance of a latent familial relationship nipped immediately in the bud. Qui-Gon himself had a son somewhere, Anakin knew, training with Master Yoda. And he could only imagine the old troll waiting gleefully for his own, likely very powerful, offspring.

"I can think of other places too," Anakin said, his voice becoming cold, noncommittal. It wasn't that he didn't like Asajj. Or that he liked her either. The girl was attractive enough, and pickings were slim enough on Tatooine period, not to mention the field narrowed down to just Jedi stationed on the planet. But it just didn't feel right, and besides, there was no way Anakin could even imagine conceiving children at the moment though, but were the day to ever come, there was no kriffing way he would allow himself to be separated from his own blood. His mother was bad enough. Not his future children as well, he would not allow it, no matter what the Masters insisted upon.

"I can't believe Tru could really be dead," Asajj said, turning somber herself upon seeing Anakin's mood turn serious as well. "I know Jedi die all the time...," but she never got to finish her thought as the camp rocked by a furious explosion.

"Stormtroopers," Barriss Offee cried, standing sentry on a higher cliff overlooking the small settlement. Immediately lighting her weapon and deflecting the oncoming barrage of blaster fire, she was quickly joined by Qui-Gon and several other knights.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called below as he fought. "Take the younglings and the younger Padawans. Seek refuge in the Wastes as we've discussed, there are ample caves and canyons to hide in."

"Yes Master," Obi-Wan called out, immediately herding together the panicked younger charges and ushering them into the rocky hills nearby.

"Anakin," Qui-Gon cried, seeing the boy not content with manning the perimeter, but charging headfirst into the Stormtrooper lines. "Don't get too far ahead!"

"Careful! They're Clonetroopers," he yelled back, swinging his saber and cutting through several of them. Seeing that he was in danger of being surrounded, Anakin started to fall back. Stormtroopers were recruits of varying quality, whose aim could not be trusted. But these new clones out of the Empire's new breeding program rumored to be on Kamino rarely missed, and none of them could afford to underestimate their deadliness.

"Barriss," he heard Asajj cry out, and in his peripheral vision he spied the young Miralian Padawan scream in pain as she fell on the desert floor. He wanted to rush back and check on his friend, see if she was hurt badly or not, but could not afford to turn his back on the increasingly intense enemy fire. While the rest of the Jedi fell back, Qui-Gon leading them behind a small defensive trench, and purposely on a separate path further away from where Obi-Wan would be escaping with the younglings, Anakin found himself increasingly isolated by the charging clones.

"Kriff," Anakin swore. Sensing a trap, Anakin extended a hand to Force push away the nearest squad of clones, then turned and ran towards the nearby hills. There was no point to making a futile stand by himself, and he knew the terrain well enough, finding a small trail that would bring him back around to the main group within minutes. Sprinting through the desert and focused on his mission, he was surprised by the sound of another small explosion, followed by the sharp crack of rocks slamming against each other above him, and came to a halt just as a cascade of hut sized boulders tumbled down the nearby hillside.

As he struggled to get a grasp of his surroundings while the dust cleared, he saw that the landslide had effectively blocked his route ahead. Sighing and preparing himself to scale the rocks, he froze upon hearing a gentle, feminine voice from above.

"Still think I'm an angel?"

He saw her perched atop the hill, where the landslide had started. Before he could react, she flew down with the ferocity of a demon, red lightsaber lit, and fell upon him, raining him with an initial flurry of blows. Caught off balance, he quickly adjusted his stance and fended off the petite Sith, who backed away. Taking advantage of the temporary standoff to study each other, Anakin could not help but gawk and wonder at how much and how little had changed.

He had never seen her with a lightsaber, for one, and the sight of Padmé holding a red blade filled him with a sense of disgust and self-loathing. Obviously she was older, but Anakin realized now that in many ways she had still been a child last time they met, and while her appearance changed little, the cold, weary brown eyes betrayed none of the youth or innocence he swore he saw in them almost eight years ago, even knowing as he did afterwards that she had lied to him from the very beginning.

"I think you're a villain," he blustered with more conviction than he held in his heart. "A murderer."

Padmé scoffed, the scars lining her face standing out when she did so. "Tell me something I don't know."

"You killed Maul," he accused, his voice almost lowered to a whisper. "In cold blood," he added. "Qui-Gon told me you stabbed him from behind."

"And your lucky shot robbed me of total victory. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan escaped Naboo because of you, so when it comes to ancient grudges I'd say we're pretty much even."

"Not even close. And it wasn't luck, you know. It was the will of the Force." Anakin said defensively, remembering clearly how Qui-Gon had told him to wait in the hangar during the battle. Which he tried to do, but the ship's autopilot system seemed to take on a life of its own after he blasted away some of the stormtroopers attacking his newfound Jedi friends. The next shots he fired, lucky ones he still thought despite what he just maintained, ended up disrupting the Imperial blockade and distracting the naval response just enough Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to escape what was obviously intended as a trap on Naboo.

"Perhaps," Padmé agreed. "Many things happened during those course of events that were the will of the Force...such as our meeting. Which is why you should come with me willingly," she added with a seductive smile, "rather than fight your destiny."

"Never," Anakin shouted through gritted teeth, jumping to attack the young Sith again after their brief respite. Having regained his composure after the recent shock of being ambushed into this reunion with the haunting specter from his past, he once again felt the flow of the Force in his movements, calling it to his will effortlessly with each swing of his blade against hers. Pressing forward in his attacks, he felt her weakening with each defensive parry, until she found herself backed up against the very rock wall she created.

"You should not have come back. Surrender," he ordered, though the words came out sounding more like a desperate request, "and I will do what I can to persuade my Masters for leniency." Traditionally, the Jedi never executed defenseless prisoners, however malicious, but outnumbered in these dark times, they could not afford mercy on any of the numerous enemies sworn to their destruction.

"Foolish child," Padmé snarled back, "you truly do not understand the fanaticism of those you still call 'master'." With one final desperate gasp, she hurled herself at him, swinging her blade at his side. Dodging her attack, he pivoted and kicked at her legs, sweeping through her shins, and in an instant she was on the ground with a blue lightsaber at her throat.

"You lost," Anakin exclaimed, though his eyes were wide, as if he could barely believe the truth in his own words.

"Are you going to kill me," Padmé asked, her voice suddenly helpless as her lungs gasped for air, yet still her words taunted him, cutting deep into his core. "Can you really bring yourself to finish the deed?"

"I must do my duty," Anakin said, though he knew how unconvincing he sounded. He braced in alert as a small object flew out of Padmé's crimson robes into her hands. Expecting something like a flash detonator at first, he squinted and to his surprise, saw nothing more than a small piece of japor wood.

Her eyes were pleading now, beseeching him and evoking emotions he had never let go, despite the admonishments of his masters. "Do you remember what you said when you gifted this to me all those years ago?"

"It would bring you good fortune," he whispered almost to himself, his mind transported to another time. He saw a teenaged girl, a beautiful, young Queen in exile, consoling the young boy, so recently freed from slavery, in a forgotten corner of that small ship even while the Jedi slept.

_"Many things will change when we reach Naboo, Ani. But my caring for you will always remain."_

Suddenly, he felt a sharp prick in his neck, and his world faded to black as he collapsed to the ground. Calling her lightsaber back to her hand, she flung it back into her robes and deactivated the small droid that had managed to sneak up on the young, unsuspecting Jedi.

"All too easy," the triumphant Sith said to herself, not without a hint of pride and self-satisfaction, and took out her comm to call for backup.


	4. Chapter 4

Unlike most of his Sith compatriots, Darth Hurdis had once been a member of the Jedi Order. As a young Padawan named Mace Windu, he was still struggling with Master Yoda in trying to understand how to interpret and utilize his unique ability to see shatterpoints in the Force when he was sent on a scouting mission for a new base on one of the moons of Endor. Accompanied by Yoda and Master T'ra Saa, they separated with Mace and T'ra searching for a suitable settlement spot while Yoda went to seek out the native populations on the remote moon. It was just their luck to run upon a Sith scouting party led by one Darth Tyranus who, along with an Inquisitor named Jocasta Nu, were scouring the system for exploitable resources.

T'ra Saa found herself easily dispatched by the dark warriors, and though Mace fought valiantly against the two much older and more experienced Siths, he proved no match for them either. Impressed by his ability and his willpower to resist them, and undoubtedly his anger in defeat, Tyranus offered to spare him were he to surrender and join them back to Coruscant. It was that moment when Mace first saw a shatterpoint upon his own self, connecting him to what he knew was Yoda on the other side of the moon. He understood that were he to join the Sith, they would be satisfied with the day's haul and leave happily without scouring the rest of the planet for more Jedi. And what was the worth of one Padawan compared to the Grandmaster of the entire fledgling Order?

The first object of his hatred when Mace Windu joined the Sith Order was not his captors, but the very Jedi Master whose life he believed he spared. He resented Yoda for forcing him to make the choice, for leaving him and T'ra Saa by themselves, essentially abandoning them to the whims of the Empire. He was young enough to be indoctrinated easily into the Dark Side, succeeding effortlessly through its ranks, but he never forgot completely his years with the Jedi, though those memories were clouded entirely by his sheer loathing of what he had been. And, though he could never admit, what he lost.

"Pull up a map of the Outer Rim," he commanded, and Depa obeyed immediately. The Emperor had not been kind to him when the raid on Dantooine yielded nothing, and though the punishment was harsh, Darth Hurdis would not let anyone witness weakness from him. Not even Billaba. Scanning the map and scrolling through system after system, he felt nothing, no answer from the Dark Side with regard to the questions he fervently needed answered.

"Do we have any leads," Depa asked timidly. She knew that though Hurdis had taken the brunt of the failure, her time would come soon enough, whether by his own hand, or the Emperor's.

"We'll find them," he swore. "Gather the team. We'll scour the Outer Rim for years if we have to, until we find more Jedi willing to speak. Reserve the 501st for us,. I can't afford the incompetence of the stormtroopers this time."

He was meditating in his chambers when Depa approached him hours later.

"Master Hurdis," she bowed, maintaining the formality between the two. "The 501st is unavailable."

"Unavailable," the Sith Lord asked, eyes narrowing in barely contained rage. "The records said otherwise when I scanned them earlier today."

"Most of the battalion remains on Coruscant," Depa said warily, "but a quarter of the men have not reported in today, Commander Rex among them." She blinked, continuing. "Seems like someone did not want it known they are in use."

"I see," Hurdis said, betraying nothing. Plots and counterplots were nothing new in the ranks of the Sith Order, but something called to him in the Force not to glance over this discrepancy. Fortunately, Billaba had more to say.

"It seems Initiate Amidala has yet to register herself on Coruscant today either. The only notes I found said that she is away on an unidentified mission for Lord Sidious."

"Sidious..." The word felt like poison in his mouth. He never trusted the old man from Naboo. The man was too political, too willing to lie, to conspire while hiding his true motives, and while Hurdis had no qualms about using all the available tools of the Dark Side, deceit was not a tactic he favored.

"I will look further into this," Depa added quickly, filling in the uncomfortable silence.

"You do that," Hurdis replied in a threatening tone.

* * *

He woke up on a hard bed in a ship, his arms bound to it above his head. He was naked, he realized, his body covered only by several thin sheets. He struggled briefly, but realizing his efforts were futile, decided to save his strength for another, hopefully more opportunistic moment. He wondered what his Masters would do in such a situation. Meditate, perhaps, until something changed, but calm contemplation was the last thing on his mind right now. The state of captivity loathsome enough by itself for the young man, he couldn't help himself from screaming, taunting at the top of his lungs.

"Padmé! Padmé! Coward! Come face me, or are you afraid!?"

He didn't expect her to respond of course. She probably couldn't hear him, though it was certain that the room was being monitored. But it would make sense for her to make him wait, as a way to demonstrate her power over him.  _Temporarily_ , he told himself. So his tantrum was completely futile, but he still couldn't help it, since it was better than doing nothing.

Surprisingly the door opened to his room only a minute or two later, and the ranking Sith aboard the ship entered wearing not the dark red robes she donned in combat Force knew how long ago on Tatooine, but rather a very sheer cream colored dress clinging tightly to her body, and it was several seconds before Anakin even realized himself that he was staring.

His leer not escaping her notice, Padmé pouted her lips mockingly. "Awww, is wittle Ani sad again?"

"No," Anakin grumbled, looking purposely away from her, turning instead to stare out into hyperspace through a small viewport. "I'm just pissed at you. That someone I once ador...trusted...for a short period of time, and thought of as a friend, just killed off all my other friends and mentors and is now taking me towards who knows what kind of tortures and vile plans her masters have planned for me."

Padmé shrugged, and Anakin could swear he smelled some kind of perfume as she inched closer to him with every step. "It's a tough galaxy. Deal with it." Leaning over him now as if he were a patient of hers, she ran one hand through his hair, drawing an instinctual response from him. "Though you can rest easy about your Jedi friends for now. We killed some, but not enough. I'm pretty sure your precious Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan got away."

The Sith woman had the nerve to then start playing with Padawan braid then, running it between her fingers, and Anakin glared at her, not sure whether to act indignant, or actually admit that he was rather enjoying her touch. Torn in his response, he could only scoff. "Like I'm supposed to trust the word of a Sith, and known liar to boot."

"Believe it. Or don't," Padmé said plainly, pulling her hand back to her side and casually glancing down at him. "I had limited resources available to me, and my main priority was to bring you back to Coruscant alive, so for once, killing Jedi could wait." She walked around his small bed, disappearing out of view his above his head, only to reappear on his other side, blocking his view of the small viewport. "We'll come back for them, of course. But if your Master Qui-Gon has any sense, Tatooine is already evacuated."

"You're hiding this mission from someone, aren't you," Anakin said, reading through what Padmé left unsaid. "You'd have slaughtered them all and brought me in if that were feasible, but you're sneaking around..."

"It matters not," Padmé said. Placing her palm onto his, she traced her fingers gently across the binders locking his wrist in place to the platform, and ran them slowly down his arm, the tips of her nails barely making contact upon his skin. Seeing him let out a small gasp and shudder and knowing he was reacting to her, that his body, and quite possibly his mind, was betraying his Jedi restraint and willpower, she continued. "I have you now. I succeeded, and success is the only thing that matters with the Sith. But you'll find that out firsthand soon enough."

"What are you going to do to me," Anakin asked, his voice cold as he tried to maintain his composure.

"I see the clones cleaned you up nicely for me," Padmé cooed softly, "non of that Tatooine grime left on your body." Running her hand by his neck, she gripped her fingers around it as if to choke him, before drawing a line with one nail down his chest, and the poor boy wasn't even trying to shield now, the Force itself billowing around her anxiously. "You'll appear before Lord Sidious. He is wise," she continued, "and you would be wise to pay heed to what he has to teach you. The Emperor will want to meet you too, I'm sure. His intentions and many of those in his court may prove less...favorable for you, so I suggest you give Lord Sidious a reason...a  _good_  reason, to speak on your behalf."

"I thought you cared for me," Anakin said, trying to keep his breathing measured even as her hands traced circles on the sheet above is chest. "I was foolish to believe what you told me years ago and...despite all evidence to the contrary...despite all that Master Qui-Gon did to drill into me the truth of the matter, somehow...I still believed. That you weren't as evil as what your actions proved. That you were the exception, that you alone, out of all your wretched kind, you actually had a heart."

"But I do care for you," Padmé's voice hissed gently. Her hand progressed downwards, fingers rubbing against this abdomen now, and a smile appeared on her lips as she felt for herself the tensing muscles underneath his tattered robes. "You have far too much potential to be wasted with the Jedi, to die a martyr on some forgotten planet like your friends did earlier today. Now you will finally have a chance towards greatness. With the Sith." She leaned down, facing him, her lips almost touching his as she spoke, so close that he found feel her breath upon his skin. "With  _me_!"

Anakin laughed, grimacing as Padmé's nails dug deeper into his chest, which spasmed upwards against her in response. "Who's being naive now," he taunted, ignoring the fact that his voice almost cracked as he spoke. "I know enough of your detestable Order, Padmé. You're an Initiate. You're a dime a dozen, the lowest of the low, and your Order isn't know for the progressive mentorship of its own. Do you really think your Lord Sidious will hand me over to you for you to train as some protege or personal assassin? That you'll be promoted to the Emperor's Council overnight?"

Padmé chuckled, taking notice of a small, rising bulge beneath the sheet, evidence that his body was far less irritated than the Sith's presence than he would have liked. "Don't presume to think you know the Sith better than I,  _Ani_ ," she said with veiled menace, and before he knew it, her hands were under his robe, massaging his bare skin. His torso shivered involuntarily, and as good as her touch felt, something he could not deny, he wondered in the back of his mind how close her actions resembled a farmer examining his livestock. Or a master their unwilling slave.

Perhaps anticipating his discomfort, her grip loosened upon his body, but only a little. He could almost discern sympathy in her eyes, but Anakin knew that was his own wishful thinking.

"Soon you will be the Emperor's," Padmé said, leaning her whole body down against his, reaching both hands under the sheet now, caressing his chest with one, exploring dangerously close to his midsection with the other. "But until we reach Coruscant, you're  _mine_. So let's make sure you'll never forget me, hmmm?"

"Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan will come for me," Anakin said, trying to name the last things his traitorous body wanted him to remember at the moment.

As if the names of the two Jedi were poison, the young Sith shirked away, backing away from him. For several long moments, their eyes met, Anakin's unsure of how he felt, what he wanted, and Padmé's an undecipherable puzzle. Then, gracefully but swiftly, Padmé brushed away from her shoulders the flimsy straps of her gown, standing before him as bare as the day she was born. For a moment, Anakin thought he saw an intense vulnerability in her eyes, but it disappeared as fast as it had materialized and again, Anakin chalked it up to his own imagination. With a subtle wave of her hand, he felt all the restraints against her wrists and ankles suddenly spring free as the sheet flew simultaneously onto the floor, but though he could now move, he could defend himself, attack her even, he remained frozen in position while the naked Sith took one slow step after another towards him.

"Don't delude yourself, that this isn't something you've dreamed of every day for years," she whispered as she straddled over him on the small bed.

 _Not like this_ , he wanted to say.  _Not this way._  But like his body, his voice seemed frozen, and all he could do was watch in awe as the girl, now woman, whom he had indeed dreamed about for the last eight years, innocently at first, then much more intimately in recent years, grab him with one small hand and guide him into her.

"Fuck," Padmé gasped, lowering herself fully onto him, Anakin's back arching as he lost his breath at the sensation. "Not bad...for a Jedi."

At first he felt like he was under a hypnotic spell. Forgetting all context as well as thousands of years of historical enmity between Jedi and Sith, all he could do was to stare in wonder, taking in every detail, every sight of the woman who was now grasping his hips, and grinding her body up and down upon him, the only thought in his mind being,  _I can't believe this is actually/finally happening._

Trying out of guilt to avoid deriving any more enjoyment on the carnal act, he avoided looking at either her breasts or further down, where their bodies met. Instead, he noticed more scars lining her body even through the dim light. Finally moving his hands for the first time since his binders were released, he gingerly caressed the top of her thighs back and forth as she continued riding him, before raising one to examine the scar which ran down from her left hip towards her abdomen.

"A Jedi gave me that," Padmé said, even as she moaned with increasing pleasure. "I killed him not long after." Taking his stray hand abruptly, she pulled it upwards until his fingers were cupping her right breast. She let them linger there before lowering his hand over another scar between her chest and her belly.

"That one," Anakin asked, finally, lamely, finding his voice.

"Sith," Padmé said coldly. "She's also dead."

Pumping her hips at a faster pace, she leaned downwards and Anakin thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around his throat, choking him lightly, though not enough to actually hinder his already irregular breaths.

"Is this the best you can do, Padawan?"

Her words seemed to awaken something primal in him. Grabbing her ass to lift himself to her level, he sat up and she immediately found herself facing his blue eyes. He ran his hands up her back, where he felt yet another scar, before settling his hands by her neck. Their roles reversed, her movements came to a stop, and she noticed that as he sat upright, he loomed slightly over her.

"I could kill you right now," Anakin said, placing one hand perpendicularly against the back of her neck, as if he could slice it open with the side of his hand.

Making no move against him, Padmé moved her gaze down towards his lap, to where they were both still joined. She could feel him, pulsing inside her. She could feel his emotions swirl about the room, strong, intense, but afraid. Pointing the tip of her finger at the base of his member, she scratched an upward path along his body until it propped the bottom of his chin.

"I don't believe you," she said, tightening her pelvic muscles, her eyes daring him recklessly.

Both Sith and Jedi sat deadly still, and it was only after Anakin roared in frustration and clutched his arms around her, resuming his thrusting, that Padmé realized that she had forgotten to breathe. Burying his head over her shoulder, his vision blinded by the endless strands of her hair, Anakin furiously shoved every single thought out of his mind except for the immediate sensation of her soft skin against his, her small breasts wedged between them, the smell of her hair, and the aching sensations of his loins, calling out for release. Enveloped in a mutual embrace, feeling her nails biting across the skin on his back, he felt his instincts take control of both their bodies as he pumped into her again and again. In the moment, nothing else mattered, and Anakin could only wish that it could last forever even as he felt his body betraying him once more.

"Gaahhhh..." A formless sound emanated from his lungs as he reached his climax, and hugging her ever closer to him while the burning pleasure intensified then waned, he felt more than just her body wrapped around him. He felt her soul, her hatred was his, her anger was his, her fear, her...need, he understood them all in the most intimate way. And just as suddenly, those feelings were gone. She had closed herself to him, both in body and spirit. Lifting herself up, she stood up and studied him again with an emotionless, almost alien guise upon her face.

"What, what just...," Anakin stammered, completely lost and unnerved by what had just transpired. His guard down, he felt his body flung back against the bed by the Force, the restraints activating and binding him motionless once more. Without another word, Padmé walked into the fresher. But as he watched her leave, a very pleasant sight, he could not deny that, he saw that her steps, her stride, seemed not as confident as before.

She was in the shower for a long time, giving him a chance to think. What he did was wrong, he told himself. He felt disgusted by it now, as wonderful as it felt while it was happening...even as the baser part of him continued to scream and crave for more. He felt a growing shame as well, that the sex had been so brief. For Sith's sake, why was he actually concerned about pleasing  _her_?

 _Figure it out_ , he scolded to himself. He had his chance, to kill a Sith, to try and escape, alert Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as to what happened, maybe even steal some Imperial technology. Instead, he made love to her instead.  _No_ , he corrected himself. There was no love in what they just did to each other. Lust, and even that was a stretch. It was all part of her Sith mind games, a test that he failed, by the standards of the Jedi, and likely in her eyes too, now that she knew he would give in to her. That gave her the advantage.

The sound of running water ceased, and she emerged from the fresher not long after, her hair still wet, but clad in her red Sith robes once more. Suddenly self conscious as he lay before her in his wilted, naked state, he winced as she approached him once more.

He needed to say something to break the awkward silence. "Why did you do that?"

She smirked. "Because I wanted to," she said, playfully, if Sith could actually feel playful. "Because I can." He noticed she did not speak in the past tense.

Expecting the worst, he was surprised to see her pull from her robes a small, damp towel. Hunching over, she grabbed one of his legs with her free hand and started, out of all things, wiping his groin and the area around it, cleaning off their combined fluids that had since dried whilst she showered. There seemed no angle, no motive in her eyes, and her touch felt tender, out of all things. For the first time since their reunion, Anakin thought he caught a glimpse of the girl he remembered from eight years ago. A girl whose mask he never saw through then, whose entire existence was a lie, a hallucination she created for the purpose of fooling himself and the Jedi, but as much as his rational mind tried to convince him otherwise, the illusion felt real in this moment.

Satisfied with her work even as he was beginning to feel the pangs of arousal again, she sat down in a small chair next to him after placing the sheet over him, and pulled from a drawer a small flimsi book, which she started reading, casually crossing her legs under her robe as she did so. Legs he knew intimately now. Inevitably, curiosity took over.

"What are you reading?" Immediately he regretted asking, considering it was likely some piece of Sith lore she would use to try and lure him into the Dark Side.

Instead, she smiled, tenderness still in her eyes. "Nothing too serious," she said, seeming to read his mind. "Kind of a trashy story actually, about some ancient Naboo royal family. Petty drama, romance..."

She squinted her eyes as a soft ringing pitch pierced the room. It was her comm. She frowned. It was her secure comm, one which few had the codes to. One in which those who did were instructed not to use except for the most urgent of businesses. Anakin watched her rise and leave the room without answering the comm. Bored once more, he turned his head towards the bed stand, trying to see what kind of tale would capture the attention of a Sith. Within minutes she was back, her face pale, any semblance of calm replaced by ill-concealed fear.

Tossing him a robe, crimson like hers, she ignited her lightsaber as she turned off his restraints for the second time.

"Get dressed," she commanded, sounding like a Sith again. She waved her weapon at him. "Don't try anything stupid."

Anakin studied the Sith clothing, not bothering to hide his distaste. "Red's not really my color," he grumbled.

Padmé ignored his remark. "We're going to have to work together. Or we might as well both be dead already."


	5. Chapter 5

Padmé grit her teeth, pacing the room as she waited for Anakin, who was taking an infuriatingly long time to dress.  _Probably doing it on purpose_ , she thought angrily, typical ignorant Jedi trying to waste her time.

"We don't have forever," she snapped at him.

"The shoulders don't fit," Anakin snapped back. "Come to think of it, the entire thing doesn't fit, considering it's a  _kriffing_  Sith robe!"

"Now is not the time for semantics," Padmé yelled, her patience wearing thinner.

"Well if it's so urgent, if you want my help, then why don't you share with me what's going on? Who's trying to kill us? How am I supposed to be helping you?  _Why_  I should be helping you?"

"Ahhhh," Padmé shouted, venting her rage. Calming herself down, she tried to put on her most level, frank exception so that it would seem like she was dealing with Anakin as an equal, not as a petulant child. Which he was. "Look, Anakin, the politics of the Sith are complicated. Masters such as Lord Sidious see the big picture, but there are others such as Lord Hurdis who are far more narrow minded."

"And Lord Hurdis is trying to kill us right now?"

Padmé nodded. He was listening, which was good. "Hurdis does not take prisoners. He was responsible for the raid on Mustafar."

"Tru Veld," Anakin muttered, and Padmé was careful not to react, remembering the Padawan she had brutally gutted herself.

"His ways hurts the Empire more than they help it. Lord Sidious understands this, but he is not all powerful. Hurdis is weak now, because of his failure to find you. Be thankful for that, because where Sidious sees your potential, Hurdis will destroy you as soon as he can. But once Sidious claims you before the Emperor, Hurdis's failure will be complete, and he will be finished."

"Soooo...," Anakin said, thoroughly unmoved by her arguments, "you want me to help you and this Lord Sidious in some petty, political infighting?"

"And save your own life," Padmé shouted, as if the boy were dim.

"What if I say I'd rather die than live a slave to the Sith?"

"Well that's just stupid," Padmé scoffed. "And what about me? Would you be content to let Hurdis kill me as well for the sake of your precious purity?"

"Why shouldn't I," Anakin argued back. "How many friends of mine did you kill earlier today? What have you  _ever_  done for me to deserve my cooperation?"

The Sith threw up her arms in exasperation. "Umm, what did we do just now? I just fucked you, for Sith's sake."

"You thought I wanted that? You raped me, Padmé!"

Padmé screeched out in laughter, a bitter sound, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be melodramatic,  _Padawan_. You were free to do whatever you wanted, and you chose to indulge yourself. Much more than I did, I might add?"

"What, how?" His anger came to a halt all of a sudden, as confusion reigned in his eyes.

"Well, you actually came, for one..."

"I guess, but...," Anakin felt lost for words again, and stared down at the floor. Did he just lose the argument? How was she able to blunt his indignation so quickly?

Sighing, Padmé approached him. "This was your first time, wasn't it?"

His lack of denial confirmed her supposition. "You're right, Padmé. I've always thought of you, but I never imagined..."

"I'm a Sith," Padmé said, confused that she was actually pitying the boy. "What did you expect? A romantic dinner? Candles? Alderaanian chocolates? Flower petals lining the bed?"

"I..I just thought...if something were to ever happen, it would be more special than that," the young Jedi mumbled shyly, saying the last word with disgust.

"Look," Padmé sighed, grabbing the boy's wrist with one hand as she faced him. "Once we make it to Sidious, I'll make up for this, okay? Not that you'll have a lot of spare time training to be a proper Sith, but we'll find an open night, and I'll bring you flowers, take you to a steak dinner, the whole nine parsecs, alright? You can eat me out all night, I'll ragdoll the shit out of you, everyone lives happily ever after in the Dark Side. But we need to survive the day for us to get that second chance."

Anakin raised one eyebrow. "Ragdoll me?"

"Well, I need to get something out of it too. Just be thankful I didn't get you on all fours tonight and peg you until you squealed."

"Peg me," Anakin asked, more disturbed than confused now. "What does that even mean?"

Closing her eyes, she sent his mind an image through the Force, and held back from laughing as the boy shuddered violently.

"What? That? No! I'd rather be a Sith...why would you even...how would you even derive any pleasure from...no actually, please don't answer that..."

"Look at us," she said, surprised to find herself still laughing. She caressed his chest again, because she couldn't help herself. "Our first lovers' quarrel."

"How so," Anakin asked crossly, crossing his arms and pushing her away.

"Well, we're arguing, and we just fucked, so technically..."

"Call it what it is then, a fuckers' quarrel," Anakin said, still sulking, and turned away from her.

 _Teenagers_ , Padmé reminded herself, shaking her head. The mission seemed so glamorous when she initially planned it out. Since when did capturing the Chosen One equate to babysitting?

"Anakin," she said, trying to sound more sympathetic as she placed one hand on his back. "I know much has just happened to you at once, and it's a lot for you to process. You're confused, your emotions are...emoting, and maybe in a perfect world I can let you think things through and process your feelings in due time...but we are scheduled to arrive in Coruscanti airspace in less than two standard hours, and we will have Darth Hurdis's entire fleet waiting to blast us into oblivion the moment we emerge from hyperspace. You may martyr yourself all you want, but I can't imagine that's what Qui-Gon would want for you. Or your mother."

"Don't mention my mother."

"Fine," Padmé relented. "Either way, you're the Chosen One. You're supposed to fight back, resist. And maybe it's out of your hands, because you are who you are. If you're destined to be the savior of the Jedi, then the Sith can't destroy you, and who knows? If it's meant to be, if anyone could escape even the Emperor himself, it'd be you. And if the Dark Side is the way, then you will fulfill your destiny with us. But whatever path you choose, you need to survive, to  _live_ , to have a fighting chance."

She felt relief when his blue eyes resurfaced, the young Jedi turning to consider her proposition. "So what would you have me do?"

Padmé flashed him a quick smile in gratitude. "You're a pilot. Better than me, I can assure you. Hurdis doesn't know I know. The moment we emerge from hyperspace, we take an escape pod out. I will command Rex to allow Hurdis's forces on board, and that should hopefully buy us enough time to make it to Coruscant."

Anakin seemed skill skeptical. "If your Lord Sidious is so powerful, why doesn't he call off Hurdis off? Or attack him outright?"

"Sidious is a politician, a cautious one at that. He's not going to stick his neck out for a lowly initiate like me."

"So he can claim only the successes? Sounds like being a Sith is a great time."

"It's got its benefits," Padmé smirked, taking that moment and grabbing Anakin's ass, gave it a playful squeeze. As expected, he shot her a disgruntled look, likely trying to hide the fact that he enjoyed it. Or not, she didn't care as long as it reminded him who was in charge. "So we're doing this, or what?"

"Fine," Anakin spat out. A daring look crept into his eye. "And what if I attempt an escape at the first opportunity?"

Padmé narrowed her eyes, daring him back. "Chosen One or not, I'll stab you in the throat."

* * *

"One minute," Padmé said, looking at her chrono. Taking a deep breath, she glanced up at Anakin, trying to look as helpless and vulnerable as she could to him. "Can you promise me something, Ani?"

He wanted to insult her, say something facetious, but the earnestness in her eyes stopped him. "What," he asked curtly.

"I believe Hurdis fears greatly your potential. He will kill you as quickly as he can, so you're lucky in that respect. Me, he despises but does not fear." She pulled out a small vile from within her robes containing a bile-like, orange liquid. "If this fails, I will try to take this poison. It will put me in a coma, after which I will die painlessly."

"A coward's way to die," Anakin remarked caustically. "Do all Siths keep suicide pills like this?"

"I've had enough pain in my life," Padmé said, shooting him a dirty, even hurtful look. "I wish to die on my own terms, if I can. If I can't, but you can, I want you to kill me."

Before he could answer, alarms rang through the halls of the ship, signaling their impending exit from hyperspace. They ran through the small hangar, Padmé activating and shooting off several empty pods before grabbing Anakin and yanking him into the one she chose. Buckling their restraints, Anakin pulled the lever launching them down towards the city planet's atmosphere before studying the controls.

"Not much to work with," he grumbled, playing around with the pod's sparse navigation systems.

"Don't want you give you anything you can fly your way back to the Jedi with," Padmé said, her eyes studying the small fleet Hurdis had gathered to intercept them, noticing several small fighters heading their way. "They've noticed the pods. I'll give Hurdis credit, he does not overlook any detail."

"What's the next part of your plan then," Anakin asked. The pod was not armed, so there was nothing he could do to fight back against their fast approaching pursuers.

"We need to beat them down to Coruscant," Padmé responded plainly, as if it was as such a task were as simple as a Padawan's beginner's kata. "Think there's any extra weight we can ditch on this thing?"

"Some of the deflector shields, but I doubt they'd withstand a heavy barrage anyway."

"Gone," she said, activating several buttons which dislodged the heavier pieces off into space. She studied her options. "Can you keep us alive without the landing mechanism?"

"Uhhh...," Anakin paused, watching the enemy fighters getting closer. "It's possible, I suppose. I wouldn't place any credits on it."

Padmé pointed towards a small speck of blue on the far side of the planet's horizon, an artificial body of water by the looks of it. "The Sea of Bane. It'll be a rough landing, but we'll survive if you know what you're doing."

"We're burning up," Anakin said as they started plunging through the planet's atmosphere. "Are we safe on Coruscant,  _if_  we survive the landing?"

"Hardly," Padmé said, rolling her eyes as the landing mechanism flew off the pod. "But that just ensures you have nowhere to run, my dear Padawan."

Ignoring her taunt, Anakin watched as the fighters started blasting at a few of the empty pods behind them, and swerved their vehicle violently, to the left, then right, then back and forth erractically.

"Now they know this one's us," Padmé said.

"Don't think they care either way, they're just shooting at anything and everything." Ahead, he spied a large freighter ship slowly making its way through towards the planet's surface. "If I can avoid the fire long enough to get us into one of those loading docks," he said even as both of them held on for dear life as the pod rocked and shuddered, and for a moment Anakin wasn't sure whether the culprit was enemy fire or plain turbulence. Losing himself in the Force to try and gain every advantage, he closed his eyes as he bobbed his way through the already unstable atmosphere, successfully dodging several blasts even as Padmé meditated, channeling the Dark Side to project confusion and fear into the pilots pursuing her. Her efforts were successful, as one and then another fighter lost control and crashed into each other.

"Interesting tactic," Anakin said, grasping what she just accomplished.

"The Dark Side isn't all blood and torture."

"Tell that to the pilots you just killed."

"Fucking Jedi," Padmé grumbled. "No gratitude even when you save their sorry asses."

"I have it under control," Anakin said, accelerating the pod as fast as he could towards the surface of the freighter. Feeling one fighter getting too close, he swerved sharply to his right, narrowly missing the freighter but late enough for the fighter to clip one of its wings upon it, exploding in a blinding light behind them. Spying an open port, he piloted the pod towards it, barely fitting into the hangar. Both of them gripped whatever they could nearby as the vehicle skidded violently into the ship. Their bodies banging against the walls of the pod, both of them rocked helplessly until the pod finally came to a stop over the wreckage of what seemed to be a hundred small ships. Forcing herself to come to her senses, Padmé opened the doors of the pod as Anakin regained his bearings next to her.

"Ugh. Seems like the cargo here is a bunch of speeder bikes."

"Oh, good," Anakin remarked as he emerged beside her from the pod. "Let's ride one of these out of here."

"Are you crazy," Padmé asked incredulously. "We're still way too high in the atmosphere! We'll fall to our deaths."

"They know we're here," Anakin countered, jumping on a small bike they had not wrecked with their landing. "How long do you think it'll take for us to find a ship before they intercept this freighter."

Padmé sighed, jumping onto the bike and wrapping her arms tightly around Anakin's torso. "Fine. But if you get us killed, I swear, whatever comes after death, I  _will_  track you down, and I'll fucking peg your guts out."

Wincing, he held up one hand even as he started the bike. "Please, no mention of that once we're in the air, or I will plunge us to our deaths."

Bracing the wind as he forced the bike back out the port, they felt the planet's gravity immediately take hold of their vehicle, and both held on for dear life, Anakin to the handlebars, Padmé to his body, as rather than fight it, the Jedi steered the bike downwards on purpose. Neither realized they were screaming, their voices drowned out by the currents of the lower atmosphere.

Both seemed to watch mesmerized as the buildings below rushed up at them at a speed neither one of them could have imagined. Soon, what had been tiny specks in the distance now materialized into hundreds and thousands of vehicles, following the planet's normal traffic patterns and oblivious to the missile above them. Even then, Anakin did not relent on the engine, barreling through the many layers of traffic and barely clipping the varied lanes and astonished drivers as they pierced the planet's upper levels. It was night on this side of the planet, and the lights became more varied and clustered as they dove deeper down into the older, lower levels, Anakin finally pressing the brakes and sliding the bike upright as the free fall finally came to an end between who abandoned warehouses and several sparsely populated alleys.

"Fuck...," Padmé gasped, feeling every muscle in her body ache and her head pounding as Anakin rejoined the normal traffic patterns, "that just took decades off my life."

"Eh, just another day for me," Anakin said ahead of her, though his labored breathing seemed to indicate a lot less assurance than his words.

"Really," Padmé asked, skeptical but genuinely curious whether this was something the Padawan did on a regular basis.

Still holding him, she felt his chest heave and rock as he laughed, a surprisingly enjoyable sensation. He turned his eyes back towards her, sparkling blue showing even in the night time. "Can't tell you all my Jedi secrets yet, can I?"

His eyes betrayed something else as well, scanning the environs of the seedy district they found themselves in, and Padmé grasped that he had piloted them to such a low level for more reasons than just eluding their immediate pursuers.

"Don't," she said, surprised how much her voice sounded like she was pleading. "I'll have to stop you."

"I think I stand a fair chance," he said, his voice cold.

"If I appear before Sidious without you, he will have no reason to protect me from Hurdis." There was no telling whether her words would have any effect. Certainly there was no logical reason for him to help her any further. "Please. If you are determined to escape, do it when my life no longer depends upon it."

"Will you help me," he asked, his voice still giving no hints as to his thinking.

"No," Padmé said. There was no other answer she could give. "I'm telling you this now, so you won't make the foolish mistake of confiding in me later your plans."

"I appreciate the honestly, for once." She felt his shoulders relax, then tense up once more. He finally spoke. "I never thought I'd ever say these words but...which way to the Sith's house?"

Sensing he had lost the taste for further conversation after giving him the directions, Padmé wearily dropped her head onto Anakin's back. She felt him flinch upon the contact, but he didn't fight her. The mission had proved exhausting as any she had undertaken, in ways new and unfamiliar to her, so as she burrowed her head on his body, she tried to forget everything about her sorry existence. No Sith, no Jedi, no war, no torture, tears, misery, pain...just the calm feeling of holding on to a man, listening to him breath, and taking comfort in the sense that she was not completely alone in the galaxy. Simple pleasures available to any common man, woman, sentient out there, but not to either side of the war between those cursed with their powers.

* * *

"The Emperor's here," she said, feeling the weight of the darkness as they approach Sidious's palace. Taking care to distance herself physically and mentally from the boy as they approached, she saw a battalion of guards awaiting their arrival at the entrance gates, along with several Inquisitors, among them Shaak Ti and Aayla Secura, two Siths she maintained amicable working relationships with. Which meant they did not subscribe to Hurdis's faction.

"Is it him," Shaak Ti asked eagerly as the bike trickled to a halt. Even the Siths seemed to lose their edge in their genuine curiosity to catch a glimpse of the fabled Chosen One.

"You've caused quite the stir in the capital, Padmé," Aayla Secura added. "I'll be honest, I never thought you had it in you."

Anakin sat deathly still on the bike, not speaking a word as the small crowd gathered around them. Padmé motioned for him to stand, and he did so, showing no emotion. She kept her lightsaber in her robes since the boy was showing little signs of resistance, though she knew that all the Siths present were ready to draw their weapons at once.

"Seems like you tamed him," Aayla said with a wink as they made their way inside.

"I only hope he will serve the Empire well," Padmé said humbly, knowing that, though she was on good terms with them, she could not reveal any undue traces of ambition to her fellow Siths.

"I hope you'll share him," another familiar voice rang ahead, and Padmé consciously stopped herself from exchanging a knowing look with the Sith who had tipped her off to Hurdis's plans. "He's rather cute for a Padawan."

"He is not mine to share," Padmé said to Siri, silently thanking her for the warning. "His fate belongs to the Emperor and Lord Sidious now."

"They are wise enough to understand that us Inquisitors can grow impatient," Aayla said, winking at the sullen Jedi. "Give us our entertainment and our playthings, and we'll do better work for the Empire."

"He seems too willing to come along," Shaak commented suspiciously. "Are you sure he's not concealing some sort of explosive? It would be appropriately foolish for a Jedi to embark on a mission to martyr themselves against the Emperor."

"Not likely," Siri said. "I'm sure Padmé's done her due diligence in  _fully_  examining the boy to prevent just such a happenstance."

"The only reason, I'm sure," Aayla said, elbowing Padmé, who felt a growing apprehension at the sight of the Emperor ahead, seated next to Darth Sidious. The entire group grew somber and quiet as they approach the Dark Grand Lord of the Sith, and all bowed before him with the exception of Anakin.

Staring at the tall Muun whose dark desires embodied the tyrannies the Sith spread across the Galaxy, Anakin knew he would be punished for his insolence and defiance. Yet he was surprised by its source, screaming in pain and betrayal as the girl whom he knew most intimately poured unrelentingly Sith lightning into his body until he fell onto his knees. Then he collapsed further, writhing on the ground from the sheer agony from one who had brought him to such pleasure hours earlier.

"You will learn respect," Padmé spat at him from above, "Jedi scum." Ending the lightning attack, she kicked him viciously in the stomach, leaving him in a fetal position before she bowed again at Sidious and the Emperor. "Your majesty, I apologize for impudence of my prisoner. He will learn soon the deference owed to the Emperor and the mighty Grand Lord of the Sith."

The Emperor Plagueis stood up from his chair and clapped loudly, the entire room, even Anakin, hushed still by his every move. He walked up to the small group congregated before him, patting Darth Sidious on the back.

"My dear friend, you were right about Amidala after all. You always believed that she would come through, when few others did. Tonight, I applaud your foresight."

"Thank you, your majesty," Sidious said, bowing to his lifelong master. "I have no doubt that the Chosen One will fall. I feel his anger, his hatred for us already. With your wisdom and judgment, he will join us, and become the greatest Sith of all."

"The Sith'ari," Plagueis exclaimed, eyes wide in wonderment. "Bane foresaw this one day, the culmination of our Order, and the permanent destruction of the Jedi." He approached the fallen Jedi and his captor, who seemed to stand sentry above him. "This is a great triumph for the Sith," he said to Padmé, touching her forehead with one finger.

"I serve only your majesty and the Empire," she replied quietly, bowing her head once more in reverence.

"And from today onward, you will serve it as an  _Inquisitor_ , Amidala. May your new title fare you well."

Recognized his words as a dismissal, she bowed again and retreated to join her fellow colleagues in the back of the room. But not before she kicked Anakin once more, this time in his chest. "The Emperor is your master now, boy."

He glared at her, unable to hide his hurt at her treatment, even as the Emperor himself bent down to examine his new toy. To his surprise, the Muun actually took his arm, pulling him upright softly, and Anakin rose with the Emperor's help, though he still chose to not utter even one word.

"Young Skywalker," Darth Plagueis's deep voice began, "I apologize for your rough welcome. It is fitting for a Jedi, of course, but I sense that you are no plain Jedi."

"Don't bother," Anakin said emotionlessly. "Just kill me now, because I won't turn."

"Not overnight, I don't expect. You would not be worthy of the Sith if you did." With his continued soft yet firm grip on the boy's shoulders, the Emperor led Anakin away from Padmé and the Inquisitors in the direction of the almost kindly, beaming face of Darth Sidious. "There are some amongst us who once thought as you did. Lord Hurdis for one. Little assurance it may be for you, but he will soon be punished for his...misguided, attempt to prevent you from fulfilling your true destiny."

Upon hearing those words, Anakin could not help but sneak a look at Padmé. Her face revealed nothing, but he thought he saw a sparkle of dark triumph in her eyes. So she would have his revenge, he thought. A part of him was even glad for her, despite her rough treatment of him just now. If only it didn't come at his expense.

"I rather wish he succeeded," Anakin mumbled numbly.

"Yet you resisted his attempt to kill you," Sidious commented. "Rather successfully, I may add." He looked at Plagueis. "Perhaps, the boy is not so eager for martyrdom just yet." He settled his devious eyes back towards Anakin. "Or could there be another reason? Such as...a lingering attachment? Maybe towards a newly promoted Inquisitor of ours?"

He resisted the urge to look at her again. It would do him no good to deny his feelings, as it was clear the Emperor and his senior minions saw through him as clearly as Master Yoda or Qui-Gon did. Moreso, even, as he felt their invasive prying, constantly battering away against his shields, seeking to break him at any cost. "If my weakness betrayed me, then I will not deny my failure."

"Failure," the Emperor gasped incredulously. Releasing his arm, the Muun started laughing. "Such arrogance in the boy, to think this 'failure' lies within his own hands." The Dark Lord turned his sickly yellow eyes at Anakin. "It was the will of the Force itself, young Skywalker, that brought you to me. To think you can resist that is to believe you can  _fail_  in stopping time from moving forward, or the sun from setting."

Anakin flinched as the older human circled around on his other side. Flanked now by two Sith Lords now, he tried to retreat inwardly as fully as he could. Still, he was disarmed by the kind sounding words from Darth Sidious, despite their menacing undertones.

"I see that Inquisitor Amidala has a certain way with you, Skywalker." He bowed towards the Emperor. "I'm sure we'll find opportunities for her to enhance the boy's training, from time to time, no?"

Darth Plagueis laughed. He motioned with one finger for Padmé to step forward, and she joined them immediately, her brown eyes still frozen. The Emperor placed one hand on her shoulder, another on Anakin's as if performing some perverse Sith ceremony of marriage.

"Contrary to what you may believe, young Skywalker, we encourage a spirit of cooperation within our Order. So that we may work together, move forward productively." The Muun leaned his head down, so close that Anakin could smell his rancid breath. "You may not know, but I myself am a scientist. I believe in the observable. The empirical. What can be seen, identified, tested."

Letting go of the two younger audience members, the Emperor strode back over to his fellow Sith Lord. "As my friend Sidious has seen himself, I have long conducted experiments of the deepest nature in order to understand the  _structure_  of the Force itself. Our midichlorians, the very source of our power. It's a secret," he lowered his voice to a whisper, so that he could not be heard by even the other Inquisitors gathered, "the ability to manipulate the smallest building blocks of our power. To change their very nature. To one day have even the power over life and death itself."

His sickening yellow eyes bore straight into Anakin's soul, piercing any shielding the poor boy could muster against the most powerful Sith in the galaxy.

"Join me, and we shall embark on the grand adventure together, and gain power beyond what any Sith or Jedi could ever imagine. Defy me, boy, and I will use the full Force of my knowledge to rip you into a billion pieces, cell by cell, midichlorian by midichlorian, and your suffering will be unknown to any before or after."

* * *

She felt relieved standing in her apartment again. When she stood in it last, she knew not whether she would live to return. If she did, it could only be in triumph.

"Inquisitor Amidala," she said to herself, savoring how the words sounded coming out of her mouth. It was over, her place in the Empire finally secured. She certainly would not get the pleasure of killing Hurdis and Billaba herself, something she had always known to be a fantasy, but the knowledge that she had secured their fate was satisfying enough. Soon, she could conduct similar missions on her own, create her own roles, forge her own fiefdoms and, for the first time in her life, start living for herself. Recalling the last time she had felt so free though, she couldn't help but notice the same common denominator...the very boy whose freedom she just traded for her own.

"He'll thank me one day," she muttered to no one in particular, "once he finally embraces the Dark Side."

_Or he'll kill you, if he does turn. After all, who now deserves his hatred more than any other?_

Thankfully, the Emperor had let Anakin off easily for the night, sending him directly to the confinement cells without torturing the poor kid. The next few months, possibly even years, for the boy will not be so kind, and Padmé fervently hoped he would turn, the quicker, the better, for his own sake. She could not shake away the look of betrayal in his eyes, especially after she attacked him before the Emperor.

"He had to know it was coming." She had to ensure the Emperor and Sidious knew her mind was not muddied when it came to Anakin. That she felt for him no differently than any such as Siri or Shaak Ti would view a captured Jedi. That any favor she showed him, any closeness they had, any jokes or fond memories they shared, whether from eight years ago, or more recently, served only to further manipulate the boy towards the pathway to falling.

 _Enough_ , she ordered herself. She would not wallow any further on her day of triumph. Let the Emperor and Sidious do as they will with Skywalker. As Sidious said, she may well get the chance to work on him again. With any luck, she could start chipping away at his newfound hatred for her, sooner rather than later. As she drank her first glass of celebratory wine alone in her bedchambers, she felt a furious wave echo through the Force. It rocked her violently, spilling her wine onto her bedsheets, though she cared little for such triflings at the moment.

"The Emperor is dead," she exclaimed in the darkness of her apartment. Immediately, she heard the sound of banging on her front door. Before she had a chance to gather herself to greet her visitors, a sharp crack pierced her apartment, and she recognized the despicable Force presence of Depa Billaba invading the only personal space she had to herself in the galaxy.

"What is the meaning of this," she asked the Inquisitor angrily as she led a contingent of stormtroopers into her bedroom.

Her intruder's eyes were glowing with pride and contempt, and she ignored Padmé's question. "Arrest her," Depa ordered with a smirk.

"By whose orders," Padmé cried, suddenly feeling the terror overwhelm her, that there was something she missed entirely. Something vitally elusive, supremely important, and so fatal...

"The new Emperor's."


	6. Chapter 6

If Anakin Skywalker could be honest with himself, he was terrified of the Dark Side. Not out of doctrine, necessarily, from his eight years studying under the Jedi, but more because he knew how close he could come sometimes to materializing the worst fears of Master Yoda...on his own, without getting kidnapped by the Sith and confronted by their leader. He knew himself, and he knew the rage, the emotions he pushed back so many times...such as when hearing of the latest Sith or Imperial atrocities. When he vocalized his frustrations to Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan or Yoda about why they weren't doing more to help the Galaxy, to combat the Sith, only to hear their usual dismissals. When they criticized the way he learned, the way he thought, the way he was. When he thought about how they hid his own mother away from him, when he wondered whether the Jedi masters were more inhuman for preaching him to forget his own mother, or for their own easy dismissals of their flesh and blood, or for the way they forced those who chose to breed to happily send their children off to a distant base, never knowing or even caring how they would eventually fare under the Sith's oppression.

No, he did not need the Emperor or some Imperial flunky to drag him towards those passionate emotions. Maybe that's why Qui-Gon smothered him sometimes, he realized, because left alone, untethered to his daily admonishments, giving in to his true self was inevitable. How easily did the Emperor or Sidious sense that from him? Or even Padmé?

And there was Padmé. He should hate her. She ruined his life, though if you pressed him for an honest answer, a small part of him was happy to have at long last left Tatooine, and finally be in the thick of things. And she was right, in her twisted way. He could turn this into his trial. What better way to prove to the Jedi his worthiness by becoming likely the only Jedi to ever escape the Emperor himself, after resisting all their dark temptations nonetheless? Already, he began plotting his path ahead. He would need to actively defy every effort by the Sith to convert him, just to be plausible. It would be endless torture, but he had no choice but to endure.

Then, the real challenge begins, to feign fissures in his shielding, allow himself to open himself to the Siths' teachings, and gain their trust slowly without succumbing to the Dark Side. In other words, treading a tightrope few have in the annals of Sith or Jedi. Hopefully, he would slowly be allowed more freedom and latitude. Maybe at some point he could contact the Jedi. For Qui-Gon to attempt a rescue in the heart of the Empire Anakin conceded would be suicidal, though a small part of him still wished the would try. But maybe the Sith would eventually allow him offworld, send him on a mission, and that would be his chance to escape. Or possibly play a double agent, and even lead a few of his unwitting captors into an ambush. That would make him a Knight for sure, and in a perverse way, he had Padmé to thank for that.

His plans for his immediate future were interrupted by an explosive ripple in the Force, one he recognized originating from the Dark Side, ensnaring many of the high ranking Siths he had just met in the palace of Darth Sidious.

"Seems like Padmé's coup is working," he muttered to himself, though the words felt wrong. With the Force whispering such drastic happenings, it was ironic that he was just as helpless, confined in the epicenter of all he stood against, as he was sheltered by Qui-Gon on Tatooine. That still, he was the passenger and not the pilot of his own fate. Banging against the walls of his cell in frustration, Anakin tried to calm his restless mind into a wary sleep knowing that his arrival on its other side promised unending horror, but he had already been lying awake for some time when he felt the approach of several dark Force presences.

The door to his hallway opened, and two human males walked in. One was the Sith he had met, Lord Sidious, whom he knew to be the longtime political manipulator for the Emperor. Next to him walked Darth Hurdis, whom he knew of as a relentless murderer of Jedi and, as he had recently learned, Padmé's enemy. The sight of the two together did not bode well for her, he realized. And to his chagrin, worry for her accompanied fear regarding himself.

It was Hurdis who approached him. The man's dark eyes studied him, and Anakin could feel the hatred in his boring gaze.

"They call you the Chosen One," Hurdis said finally, quietly. "They did not bother with such fancy titles when Master Yoda was training me." The Sith's eyes became distant, as he recalled the Grandmaster of the Jedi, almost reveling within his painful recollections. "Yoda probably never told you about that failure, I'm sure. That once, he assured me, I was his most special protege? That he envisioned one day, I would sit by his side as an equal? That I may one day succeed him in leading your wretched Order?"

The Dark Lord knelt, his ominous eyes \even with Anakin's. "I imagine he's inflated you with such delusions of grandeur as well. Yet here I stand. When the Sith captured me, no one came to my rescue. As it was for me, so it will be for you."

They heard the approach of more footsteps as a small squadron of stormtroopers escorted a small woman into the cells. Anakin had sensed her presence well beforehand, and watched with little surprise as they shoved Padmé into a small cell opposite himself. Avoiding his eyes, she surveyed the scene coldly, her face hiding what must have been devastation of her patron's betrayal, and appropriately enough, Sidious positioned himself outside her cell the same way Hurdis hovered over his the moment the doors were locked.

"My poor girl," Anakin heard him say, his oily voice still dripping with what sounded like sincere sympathy to an untrained ear, "I told you before you embarked on this little quest that you were too clever for your own good."

"I misjudged you," Padmé muttered, disappointment clear in her voice. "I misjudged my own importance."

The wily smile remained on Sidious's face. "But on the contrary, my dear Padmé, you have proven most important. Alas yes, clever as you were, you thought you understood me. You fooled yourself in believing my motives aimed towards a better position under the Emperor. That my ambitions lay still under the patronage of Darth Plagueis, rather than displacing that weak old man entirely."

He crossed the aisle, standing next to Hurdis. Apparently satisfied that Padmé had already figured things out, he nevertheless felt the need to explain to Anakin his ingenious plottings. "You see, I could have had the Emperor execute Hurdis, as your  _dear_  friend Padmé envisioned, and move one step closer to the throne. Or I could approach Hurdis, inform him of his impending demise, and assure him that he has no other choice to support the Emperor's removal by myself."

"And I was the price for Hurdis's cooperation," Padmé asked sadly.

"The only thing he asked," the new Emperor once known as Palpatine said sadly. "I wish I could have saved you, girl, but it was the only way."

"You could have fought for me. You didn't need to, but you would have, if you wanted to. Clearly my life was an easy price for you to pay."

"For what it's worth," Sidious said, "I convinced Hurdis to let you go relatively painlessly. You and your Jedi boy's executions will make for a fine spectacle at my coronation tomorrow."

"You're going to kill Anakin," Padmé asked, showing shock for the first time. "But...he's the Chosen One? He could be the Sith'ari, the greatest of our kind, the culmination of Bane's legacy?"

"Yes," Sidious said bemusedly. "The boy is powerful indeed, and he may well make a fine Sith. A great Sith. Perhaps the most powerful history has ever seen." He walked back toward's Padmé's cell, all traces of amicability vanished from his demeanor. " _Why_  would I want to see that, girl? I'm the Emperor now. Why should I not claim the mantle of the Sith'ari myself, the final embodiment of the Sith. Why would I raise someone more powerful, to one day surpass and displace me as I have my master?" His eyes turned a fetid yellow as he concluded his short speech. "None shall have more power than me. Not now. Not  _ever_!"

Without a word, the two Siths departed, but not before Hurdis shot at Anakin another short burst of lightning, causing the boy to scream in pain one last time.

* * *

All the Jedi on Dagobah felt the passing of the Emperor. For some such as Obi-Wan Kenobi, seasoned enough to sense the dark tremor but lacking the experience to pull his shields up in time, the experience was enough to knock them over, leaving them agonizing in nausea and disgust for several seconds. Qui-Gon Jinn was among the first to sense it as well and, along with Yoda, concentrated their entire beings into deflecting as much of it as possible from the younglings and the youngest Padawans.

"What was that," Asajj Ventress asked, pulling herself off the ground after having tripped over a mud hole during the wave.

"Dead, the Emperor is," Yoda said cryptically. "Already a pawn of the most powerful of the Siths, Skywalker has become."

"The failure is mine," Qui-Gon admitted. Few of the younger Jedi who arrived on Dagobah from Tatooine had ever seen the older Jedi so dejected. Obi-Wan was among the exception, and the former Padawan put his hand assuringly on his old master's shoulders. "I did not become aware of the Sith's true intentions until it was too late."

"None of us could have known," Obi-Wan countered.

"I should have moved us off of Tatooine immediately once we lost touch with Master Ry-Gaul."

"The situation was chaotic after Scarif," Obi-Wan analyzed pensively. "We ought to learn not to let up our shields, even after a great triumph."

"Great, but what can we do to help Anakin," Asajj protested. She was tiring of all the inactive lamenting from her masters ever since the Tatooine raid. Anakin was out there somewhere, and rather than trying to give chase and rescue their most important member, they were talking about him as if he were already dead! She knew that if their positions were switched, Anakin would be the first to demand that they mount a rescue mission. He'd break away and go by himself, if need be!

"Lost he may be, to us for now," Yoda counseled. "But patience we must have, and trust in the Force."

"This doesn't look good," Master Plo Koon said, managing to successfully route over an encrypted holonet transmission to their small enclave. "Apparently we already have a new Emperor."

The entire camp gathered around the transmission, as three Sith Lords appeared on the screen, Hurdis and Tyranus flanking either side of their new overlord.

"...a conspiracy at the highest level," Darth Sidious was already droning on, "whereby my predecessor was secretly plotting with the Jedi to destroy the Empire. In order to undermine faith in Imperial sovereignty, rumors were spread about a so-called Jedi figure of prophecy. Unfortunately, Plagueis enlisted members of our own Order in his vile plans, manipulating the young Padmé Amidala into complicity with his betrayal. To that end, she was convinced to kidnap a Jedi, one Anakin Skywalker, to serve a figurehead for Plagueis's rebellion..."

"How can the Emperor even rebel against himself," Obi-Wan scoffed.

"...to demonstrate the message that the Empire will not tolerate such further treachery, both Amidala and Skywalker will be executed in the Grand Plaza of the Sith tomorrow at 1200..."

Plo Koon turned the holo off in disgust. "I have no urge to watch this any further."

"So Amidala was responsible for the attack," Asajj whispered to herself, trying to control her growing anger and jealousy. She knew all too well how that wretched Sith Queen had twisted Anakin's mind years ago, before he even joined the Jedi. "We can't let him die! Can we?" Looking around the circle, she found a surprising ally.

"I will go to Coruscant," Qui-Gon said, stepping forward before Yoda. "If I leave now, I may make it by the time of the scheduled executions."

"And what can you do by yourself," Obi-Wan protested in a rare, public disagreement with his former master. "Or even if you bring every one of us here on Dagobah, it's still a suicide mission! We stand no chance against the entire Sith Order, concentrated on one planet as they will be for tomorrow's coronation! You know I love Anakin, almost like a little brother, but saving him would literally be the worst time and place to mount an operation!"

"Your old Padawan is right," Plo Koon added. "As talented as Skywalker is, our numbers are too decimated at this moment. We can not afford to risk the life of a master for a Padawan, whatever his potential."

"Master Qui-Gon," Asajj argued, sensing the tide turning against her, "you...you can't listen to them! They'll let Anakin die, without lifting even a finger!"

She saw Yoda approach her. His eyes broadcast sympathy, though she knew his words were not likely to comfort her. "Clouded, your emotions are, Knight Ventress. Thinking of one, and not the Order as a whole, you are." He turned back to Qui-Gon. "A time of light and peace, I remember once, before Darkness took over. Afford, we could then, to act as we wished, without constraints. Long passed, that era has."

"But Master Yoda," Qui-Gon stammered, himself feeling little older than a Padawan, "He's the Chosen One, is he not? If he dies, then all hope dies with him."

To his chagrin, Yoda shook his head. "Reduced to one soul, the Jedi Order never will be. Chosen One he may be...allowed to die he will not, if the Force wills it. False or misdirected otherwise, the prophecy is."

Sensing Qui-Gon's defiance evaporating, Asajj turned away, running back to her tent. She would cry, but she was determined to allow none of her fellow Jedi the privilege of witnessing her tears.

* * *

They ignored each other at first, both trying to grasp the gravity and finality of their predicament.

Finally, Anakin spoke first. "Was this all part of your plan too, oh wise Sith  _Inquisitor_?"

"Shut up," Padmé grumbled. To her surprise, Anakin did, apparently possessing little urge to rub salt into both their wounds. "I figured under Hurdis I would have ended up here anyway. I took a great gamble. I can at least die knowing that I tried, that I even succeeded, to a certain extent." She bit her lip. "I am sorry to have dragged you into this though."

He had been expecting her to taunt him back, to insult him rather than apologize. Forcing himself to look at the woman who had once been the fleeting love of his life, he saw that she felt sincere enough, though he didn't know whether this was part of some new, desperate act. But what was the point, since they were already doomed.

"Maybe the Jedi will come for me tomorrow," Anakin said hopefully, even as he knew there was no truth to his words, "during the coronation."

"Maybe Sidious will blow himself up and crown me Empress," Padmé said disgruntledly. "Just as likely to happen."

"Are you going to go down like this," Anakin asked, suddenly feeling the defiance build within his heart again, "without so much as even a fight?"

Padmé stood up and waved her arms in exasperation. "Just  _what_  can we do, Anakin? We're marked for death by the entire Empire, surrounded and outnumbered in the heart of the Sith Order! You think we can fight it out, the two of us against the entire kriffing galaxy, when even your Masters Yoda and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan combined are too cowardly to do the same?"

"Don't you have any plans? Any allies, friends?" His eyes were desperate, even as he hated the idea of asking the Sith for help, for ideas.

"I was overconfident," Padmé admitted. "I thought my triumph complete, and rested on my laurels. As for allies, yes, I may have a few. But this is the new Emperor now that we're talking about, not just Lord Hurdis, and even he is beyond the grasp of any mere Inquisitor. Don't forget, I had to get the backing of a Sith Lord to move against him in the first place."

"I just," Anakin started, his spirit suddenly faltering, "I never imagined it would end like this."

"The world isn't fair," Padmé said, her voice sounding sympathetic.

"...because of your kriffing Sith Empire, that's why..."

"...and I'm sorry the Jedi filled your head with absurd notions of their prophecies. Maybe it was true," Padmé continued, her eyes distant. "I certainly wish it were so, as we wouldn't be sitting here waiting for death. But given where we stand now...I've always been resigned to a fate like this...but reality hits harder for you now, doesn't it? To not see it coming until the very end...to live with hope and believe until when it comes...maybe the Jedi did you one last favor after all..."

"I'm sorry for you too," Anakin found himself admitting, her sympathy for him making it easier to voice his own deepest feelings. And what harm was there in showing her his weakness, since she knew it better than he, and they were both as good as dead anyway. "I'm sorry for what you've been through. For the hand fate dealt you, that you were discovered by the Sith instead of the Jedi. And I hate your kind, I really do, but...if I  _had_  to pick a Sith to win out and be the evilest of them all...I guess that'd be you, Padmé."

Putting her hands on her heart, she forced herself to smile. "That's so sweet," she started sarcastically, but as she looked at the boy, and remembered those same blue eyes on the child...from a time when he looked at her not with loathing, or pity, or wariness, but an overwhelming adoration, she could not find it in herself to keep up her shield. "That's the nicest thing you've said to me in eight years, Anakin," she admitted, her voice unexpectedly bemoaning what could have been, and the wretched paths their lives had taken in the years since.

"The girl who wandered in to Watto's shop," Anakin started without even thinking, "the refugee Queen who took solace with slaves, who befriended me and encouraged me...who seemed to care for my well being...was any of that real? Or was it all part of an act to fool the Jedi and get to Maul?"

Padmé sighed. She heard the innocent hope in his voice, and wondered how honestly she should answer her question, whether it would be fair for her to disappoint him one last time before his death. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure herself what a truthful answer would comprise.

"I don't know," she confess. "Of course I had to put on an act. For the sake of the mission. For the sake of my very survival." She trained her brown eyes at him, sensing how, after all that she had done to him, she could still cause the Force, the aura around him tremble with every word. "But I'll admit this, Anakin. Sometimes an actress can lose herself in a role. Sometimes, in our minds, what's real and what's not may blur.

It may have been an act, but that does not mean that I did not myself believe it at times. When you and your mother showed me kindness. When I, to my own surprise, felt a taste of home in a dusty hovel on a backwater planet forgotten even by the Empire. To not be surrounded by hate and fear and deceit every waking moment. To feel someone care for me so completely, so genuinely, so without guise, or want, even if it came from a child. Even if I would come to twist so viciously something so pure all these years later... Chosen One or not, you couldn't see through me, Ani. You saw what I wanted you to see...but you believed with such conviction that I...I myself arrived at a point where I could almost believe my own charade."

Padmé sighed sadly. "I'm sorry if that's not the answer you wanted, but it's as good of one as I can give."

"I guess at this point I'll take what I can get to die happy," Anakin rationalized. He frowned. "You'll probably call me too young or too naive or something, and I'm sure every Jedi you've killed in cold blood has thought the same thing but...I just can't really believe that the end could come like this. Without me able to do anything about it." Except when he had the chance to escape earlier on Coruscant, a voice accused in his head, and he chose to help his own abductor instead.

"You should learn to place more trust in your feelings, young Skywalker," a deep, sonorous voice echoed down the hallway.

Anakin squinted his eyes, trying to make out the facial features of the tall Sith Lord whose presence neither one of them had sensed. "Darth Tyranus," he recognized.

"How long have you been standing there," Padmé asked, thoroughly confused now.

"It matters not," the bearded Sith dismissed as he strode closer into view for both of them. His eyes were distant, and while Anakin sensed the darkness inherent in any Sith Lord, he felt none of the immediate rage or fear as he had from Hurdis and Sidious earlier...just silent calculation. "An slicer attack which will soon be traced to a small Jedi enclave on Mon Calamari has already infected this building's systems."

As if on cue, the few dim lights illuminating their floor went out. Darth Tyranus continued speaking through the darkness. "You will find that it has disabled every mechanism within half a kilo of this facility, including your cell doors."

With one graceful wave of his hand, both doors slid open. He pointed down the hallway. "All the guards in the lobby are already dead. I suggest you inflict your own wounds upon them, as befitting the nature of your escape. Your lightsabers are located in the lockers one sector over. As you may expect, they are currently unlocked and unguarded in the event of this most...unfortunate, Jedi act of terrorism. I believe the hangar ought to hold at least one ship which would fit your requirements."

"Why," Padmé managed to stammer out. "Why are you helping us?"

Darth Tyranus sighed. Appearing to ignore the young Sith woman, he turned towards Anakin instead, studying him with a detached curiosity. "You may believe that all Sith such as myself are purely selfish in nature, that we know nothing and act upon nothing excepting our own darkest and most primal desires. That is not so." He walked further down the hallway, speaking and meandering as if he were giving a collegial lecture. "There are some who believe in the Order, for whom the good of the Order takes primacy."

"Like yourself," Anakin asked skeptically.

The elder Sith did not answer him directly. "For most of us, we delude ourselves that the two are one and the same. What's good for myself,  _must_  by simple force of logic, be good for the Order. How can that not be, when the Order itself teaches us to indulge our own, deepest passions?" His eyes scrutinized Anakin's, as if expecting an answer from the boy. "It is a delusion of course, but not altogether harmful in most instances, when the stakes are not so high."

"You believe the Chosen One and the Sith'ari are the same," Padmé grasped with mild surprise, as she had never heard rumors before of Tyranus having any interest in ancient prophecies.

"I believe in the will of the Force," Dooku said simply, again evading a direct response to their questions. "I have known  _Palpatine_  for far longer than your lifetimes combined, and then some. I know  _Sheev_. He has long passed the point of self justification, of belief in our higher calling. To him, he  _is_  the Sith, and he would set the entire Order on fire if only to reign over it for one second."

"I thought you were his key ally," Padmé accused, still not trusting the old man, as shocked as she was to hear him recall a Sith Lord's past monikers.

"A useful ruse, one which will certainly save my old skin after tonight's events." Again, he looked to address Anakin. "Like the Jedi of old, we have become complacent, stale in our ways. We mistake power today for power tomorrow. We believe the methods of yesterday will not fail because they have yet to fail in our eyes. Yet, the galaxy changes. The Jedi adapt, though at a painstakingly slow pace. But the Force adapts as well. Light or Dark, we would be foolish to defy it."

The Dark Lord shook his head. "Without restraint, Sidious will destroy the Order within a generation. Of this I am certain. For him to destroy the Sith'ari is to invite the unrestrained wrath of the Force."

"You think I'll turn," Anakin asked, sensing what the old man hinted at. "You really believe I'll join the Dark Side simply because you set me free?"

"Don't argue..." Padmé chided him from one corner.

"You  _will_  fulfill your destiny, Skywalker." He looked over to Padmé. "I sense it is inexorably tied to hers." He moved to leave. "The Jedi believe in following the Force. The Sith believe in using the Force. But for Sidious to openly  _defy_  the Force...I will not allow him to cross that line.

Maybe you will destroy us. Maybe you will be our savior. Either way, the burden rests upon your shoulders now, and mine no longer. I suggest you take advantage of your opening, children. Our new Emperor rests on his laurels tonight, but even the overconfidence of Lord Sidious has its limits. For now."

And as quietly as he emerged, Darth Tyranus disappeared, leaving a confused Padmé and Anakin staring at nothing but each other.


End file.
